The Sight of Silver Blood
by weepingangel9578
Summary: The elves are seen as infallible by most, and with good reason. They are not affected by the chill of winter, nor the burn of the summer sun. Illness wouldn't dare taint their bodies, and wounds that would easily kill a man, are seen as nothing more than scratches in the eyes of the Eldar. So why is Legolas growing weak and sickly? And why does he refuse the help of his companions?
1. Chapter 1

**I am so sorry that I haven't updated in so long, but high-school has been as crazy as always and unfortunately typing fell to the bottom of the list. But now, my train is back on track and I am going at full force, hopefully. **

**Please enjoy!**

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"Fly you fools"

The group of eight watched in absolute horror as their beloved wizard fell to the dark depths of Moria, never to return. There was a moment of calm before the entire world around them collapsed and broke into a million pieces. None could move for many moments as the grief crashed down upon their shoulders, making movement seem like the most difficult task in the history of mankind. Their eyes stayed glued to the ledge on which a brave soul had once held onto for dear life, although soon the clear edges became blurred with their rapidly falling tears and they had to look away. However, as much as the group would've liked to stay and mourn for their friend, the now overwhelming stream of arrows barreling towards them pushed them to turn away and run for the exit.

The dwarf—Gimli son of Gloin—was the first to turn away, followed by Merry and Pippin, then Boromir with Frodo and Sam, until only the elf and ranger were left.

At the moment, Legolas Thranduilion* was desperately trying to pull his dear friend away from his current standing, but the man might as well have been a statue.

Aragorn was standing with a ridged back, squared shoulders, and a cold expression that put his grief on full display. His silver eyes were still watching the last place they had seen Gandalf as if he was going to reappear any second, even though the logical part of his mind knew that was never going to come to pass.

Then, as an arrow came within two inches of the ranger's left ear, the elf started using more desperate measures. He came around to the front of the man and harshly grabbed his shoulders, practically screaming at Aragorn.

"Aragorn! We have to leave right now! Gandalf is gone and if we do not flee this very second, we shall be joining him in Mandos' halls!"

Finally the man turned his gaze away from the broken bridge and nodded curtly. However, his recollection of the danger at hand was not soon enough, for at that moment an arrow from a lucky orc came a little too close to the pair of friends, and not wanting the man to sustain injury Legolas tackled him to the ground and covered his body with his own.

Once they settled, and the threat was gone, Aragorn leapt up and looked intently towards the elf.

"Legolas, are you alright? You weren't hurt were you?"

The prince shook his head and forcefully turned Aragorn towards the exit of the mines.

"No mellon-nin, I am fine. Now let us leave before we do sustain harm." (my friend)

Aragorn glanced back at the elf, not completely sold, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Legolas was still standing tall, and didn't appear harmed in any way. And as the barrage of arrows increased, Aragorn broke into a run and led Legolas out into the light where the rest of the fellowship now sat, wallowing in grief.

When they reached the group of six, they found Boromir holding Gimli tightly as the dwarf fought to return to the mines, Sam sitting with his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking, Pippin curled up on the ground in front of Merry, whose tears were falling heavily as he tried to comfort his sobbing cousin. However, neither of them saw Frodo at first, but then as they looked around, they made out a short figure with tears running down his face.

After several seconds of sobbing and tense silence, Aragorn called out somewhat hoarsely to the others.

"Boromir, Legolas, get them up."

The elf looked forlornly at his friend, but nodded and moved over to the Took and Brandybuck. He kneeled before them and started speaking in hushed and coaxing tones.

Boromir, however, was not in the same mind set. Angered at the ranger's immediate dismissal of the issue, he spoke out bitterly.

"Give them a moment for pity's sake!"

"Orcs will be roaming these hills by nightfall." Aragorn countered. "We need to reach the woods of Lothlorien as soon as possible."

Still upset, but now understanding the situation, Boromir agreed and moved to push Gimli towards the ranger along with Sam, while Aragorn turned to grab Frodo.

Once they were all somewhat gathered, Aragorn beckoned them forward, and took off in a brisk pace towards the woods on the horizon.

Unfortunately, the man turned so quickly, that he didn't see the stumble that befell Legolas as the elf took up the rear of the pack, or the hiss of pain that he released, and he certainly didn't see Legolas place a shaking hand to his left side—directly under his ribcage—to stop the silvery-red blood that had begun to stain the elf's pale palm and silver tunic under his jerkin.

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**Sorry if it is kind of short, but I will try to post the next chapter, which should be much longer, tomorrow, or sometime soon.**

**Please review y'all!**

***Adding ion (the elvish word for son) to the end of the father's name translates to son of _. So Thranduilion means son of Thranduil.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews. I am so glad that you are enjoying this story, and want to read more!**

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The fellowship—although Aragorn was pushing them forward briskly—was moving with the sluggishness that comes along with the grief of losing someone close to you. All of them were of slumped posture, with heads hung low, and gazes glued to their quickly moving feet. It had only been about an hour since Gandalf had fallen, after all.

By now, they had left the rocky cliffs surrounding Moria behind, and had entered the flat lands below. Small streams and rivers ran through graveled banks with patches of green grasses scattered here and there. Several large boulders were placed randomly throughout the area as well. The weather was also surprisingly in their favor, for the sun was shining brightly and giving off a pleasant warmth. Unfortunately, nothing could be warm enough to quell the chill that had crept into the fellowship's hearts.

As they ran along, desperate to reach the forests of Lothlorien, the eight fell into somewhat of a line, with Aragorn at the front, Boromir, Frodo, and Sam towards the center, Gimli, Merry, and Pippin behind them, with Legolas following at a concerning distance at the back. The others were so occupied with keeping up with Aragorn's pace, that all of them were oblivious to this abnormality.

But Legolas had been struggling for quite some time now. It had only taken about ten minutes after the group's initial departure for his pace to become nothing more than stumbling jog. It was actually amazing that he was still going at all, for as time continued on, his steps became more and more uneven and his balance became almost non-existent. The elf was frequently having to completely stop and gain his barring, which only pushed him further behind.

The cause was an overwhelming pain that radiated up from his left side, and throughout the rest of his body. It made his feet and hands feel numb, while tingling white hot pain traveled through every nerve. Unfortunately, the pain was also blurring his vision and making his head pound. The amount of blood loss wasn't helping any either. It was causing faintness and an overwhelming sense of being light-headed. However, being the warrior he is, Legolas continued moving on with group. Adding extra pain and worry to his grieving friends was the last thing he wanted to do. Besides, it wasn't that bad…was it?

Another sharp wave of pain shot through the gash on Legolas' side as he stumbled once again. But this time, it was more intense than any other he had felt so far. Becoming a little concerned, Legolas stopped, leaning against one of the large stones nearby, and gingerly pressed his palm down against his wound when more blood seeped onto his tunic and jerkin. Immediately he regretted the movement desperately, for the touch caused more searing pain than he had felt before. It was so strong that he couldn't help the slight whimper that left his lips. Thankfully, none of the fellowship heard it, he was too far behind.

The prince became more concerned as instead of momentarily disappearing, the pain persisted on, and if anything became more intense. Soon the elf's breathing became labored, spots appeared in his field of vision, and standing straight became more and more of a challenge. He was now placing ninety-percent of his weight against the boulder. Then, before he knew it, his knees gave out and he plummeted to the ground.

The sharp impact on the ground jostled his injury even more and another shockwave rushed through him. He gasped and desperately tried to crawl his way forward, but he only made it to the edge of the water before another jolt of pain washed over him.

Suddenly time seemed to slow down and his arms failed him, causing his body to completely collapse. His consciousness left him almost immediately, but he was given several last glimpses of the world around him, and the image of his companions hurrying to the forest mere feet away from them.

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Aragorn, son of Arathorn, finally slowed to a stop as he reached the outer layer of trees that created the forest. A small smile of relief reached his lips as he reveled in the fact that he had managed to get the fellowship to relative safety.

"We made it," the ranger was panting heavily now, along with the rest of the group, so his words were slightly muffled. "By the pity of the Valar, we made it."

The man was about to take a step forward, when a whisper of horror came from behind him.

"Oh no…"

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Merry and Pippin both groaned in utter relief as they saw the ranger ahead of them stop his ridiculous pace. Both of them were exhausted, grieving, and incredibly sore from overexerting themselves so much.

"Do you think that he will let us rest now Merry?" Pippin stated with a hopeful expression.

The elder of the two looked to his cousin and shrugged his shoulders somewhat limply.

"Who knows Pippin…I mean I sure hope that he does, but I am pretty sure that Aragorn wants to get us to Lothlorien as soon as possible."

The younger hobbit visibly deflated and his face fell into an exasperated frown. He sighed heavily before plopping himself down on the ground in exhaustion. He turned his gaze out to the lands they had just traveled across, and as he scanned the horizon, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Merry?"

Said hobbit turned away from where he had been watching Aragorn to look upon Pippin.

"What is it Pip?"

"What do you think that is?"

"What?"

The confused Brandybuck moved closer to his cousin and squinted to try and get a good look at what Pippin was staring at. After several seconds his eyes widened impeccably and he turned to the Took in fear.

"Pippin…is that…."

The younger continued staring for a little longer before he paled to the shade of clean linen sheets.

"Oh no…."

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Confused, Aragorn turned around to find Merry and Pippin sprinting away from the group in the direction they had just come from, shouting wildly and incoherently. He watched them, his concern mounting, and then he saw what they were headed towards. A pale figure was sprawled out on the river bank about forty or fifty feet from where they were standing.

It took him less than a split second to recognize the being on the ground as his beloved friend, and as soon as he did, all air left his lungs and the color left his face.

Then, his feet started moving. He wasn't even aware of what his body was doing, for his mind had shut down in fear for his friend's health. Legolas wasn't moving at all, he didn't even look alive, and Aragorn had no idea why.

He had asked the elf if he was injured, but he had said no. Was he hurt afterwards? Why didn't he say something? But the most disturbing question that was floating through his mind as he ran forward, was how on earth had they not realized that Legolas had fallen behind and altogether collapsed?

As panic set in, all sound, beside that of his feet hitting the ground and his ragged breathing, was drowned out to Aragorn. All he could focus on was getting to Legolas and praying to the Valar that the archer's heart was still beating.

Soon he had broken into a dead sprint and he quickly passed by the two worried hobbits, ignoring their cries of question and concern. The ranger then found himself splashing haphazardly through the water until he fell to his knees beside Legolas' un-moving form.

The elf was lying on his stomach with his pale face turned to the left, away from the man. He had one hand resting in the rushing water ahead of him, while the other arm was trapped under his body. Legolas' legs were also bent awkwardly behind him, and Aragorn was absolutely horrified by every detail.

After swallowing thickly, the man reached out and pulled the elf into his lap, simultaneously turning Legolas onto his back.

He felt a wave of nausea hit him when he saw the ugly gash on Legolas' left side that had smeared the dark red and silver blood the elves possessed over both of Legolas' tunics. However, he had to shake it off in order to further examine the prince's body.

His skin had become clammy and cold with an unnatural chill to it, his pulse was fluttery and unstable, similar to his breathing. He also had a thin sheen of cold sweat covering his brow, neck, and the skin of his upper chest. Although, none of this was as disturbing as the fact that the elf had his eyes tightly shut. Elves never closed their eyes, unless they were on death's doorstep…and that was exactly what the ranger was hoping to avoid.

"Is he going to be okay Aragorn?"

"What happened to him?"

The man was pulled from his morbid thoughts by the worried voices of the two hobbits he had passed mere moments ago. Aragorn looked up to find the faces of both Merry and Pippin. Unfortunately, all he could meet them with was a grim expression.

"If I am completely honest…" The man paused to sigh and look back at the sunken face of the woodland elf below him. "I have no idea."

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**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you all for leaving me such kind words in you reviews! I am so glad that you are receiving joy from reading my stories…wow I just realized how cheesy that sounded…but whatever, I can be cheesy if I feel that is the best way to express my feelings. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter!**

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In a frantic rush of limbs and shouts, Aragorn hoisted Legolas into his arms, all the while he had the eyes of Merry and Pippin watching him carefully. Then once he was sure that the elf was somewhat situated, he took off towards the edge of the forest, where the rest of the fellowship were waiting with concern.

The entire time, the man couldn't take his eyes off of the pale face of his friend of so many years. It was strange for him, to see Legolas as the one in need of aid and care, for the elf had always made it his mission to protect the man in any way possible. It had carried over from the time when the man was not but a child. He had hated Legolas' protective nature then, all the way into his late thirties in fact, but as he became more accustomed to the harshness of the world around him, Aragorn sometimes found himself missing having someone looking after him. However, even when he found the extra help nice, he had never completely understood why Legolas had dedicated so much time to his protection. For while he could guess at the basics, such as the fact that he and the prince where close friends, brothers even, it never really made that much sense as to why the elf would obsess over every small issue that appeared in the ranger's now, as Aragorn studied Legolas' lifeless figure, he understood perfectly. It pain him grievously to see the one he loved so dearly in such a perilous state.

Sighing heavily as he splashed through the last small river separating him from the others, Aragorn began recalled memories of his time with the elf from before this crazy mess. One in particular came to the fore front, why? The man knew not, for it occurred on a mundane summer day, when the ranger was around the age of four, and he had taken a small tumble, resulting in a cut across knee.

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_A teary eyed four year old sat sniffling on the large stone steps leading into the main garden of Imlardis. The child had slipped when he was descending from his favorite climbing tree. He hadn't fallen far, only two or three feet, but on his way down, his left knee had been nicked on one of the sharp twigs attached to one of the lower branches. The cut wasn't too serious, but it was enough to make a large mark, bleed a lot, and bring the very young child more pain than he was used to._

_So now he sat, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed quietly, his face buried in his small hands._

"_Man marte tithen-pen?" (What happened little one?)_

_The boy started at the voice and looked up through bleary silver eyes. He sniffed again when he recognized the elf that was hurrying towards him._

"_I fell 'Las, it really hurt."_

_The blond elf frowned and crouched down in front of the child. He eyes the cut briefly before smiling comfortingly. Legolas then reached out and with a tender hand, raised the young one's chin, wiping away his falling tears gently._

"_Shh now Estel, it is alright, the cut isn't too bad. I am sorry that you hurt yourself though. Would you like me to tend to it, or do you want me to bring you to your ada?" (father)_

_Estel shook his head and reached out for the blond elf._

"_No, I want you to do it."_

_Legolas smiled and swiftly picked the child up, balancing him on his hip. It was then that the two of them started the trek to Legolas' room._

_During the walk the child calmed significantly and curled his head into the crook of Legolas' neck, pressing his chin into the soft skin found at the juncture. _

"_Are you feeling okay Estel?"_

"_Yeah, it doesn't hurt that much anymore."_

_The elf hummed in response and turned his head to press a kiss to Estel's forehead. _

"_I am glad. Why didn't you come and find someone earlier?"_

_The child shrugged against Legolas' form._

"_I don't know…but I am happy that you found me."_

_At this the archer smiled brightly once again._

"_I will always find you Estel."_

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Aragorn snapped out of his reverie when he heard the voices of the others around him. However, to the ranger, they all held a somewhat far away quality. It was strange…he must have been more caught up in his memories than he thought.

He could see them all, Boromir's furrowed brow, Gimli's secretive worry, hidden behind his mask of indifference, and the widened eyes of Frodo and Sam.

The ranger watched them all with what must have been a very strange expression, for soon the shouts and calls became more desperate and concerned.

"Aragorn…ARAGORN!"

The second, much more intense shout, from the Gondorian finally grabbed Aragorn's attention.

"What?"

The man looked exasperated, and really confused, when the ranger respond so.

"We were asking what happened to Legolas."

"Oh…I am not entirely sure. He must have been injured somehow in the mines. I don't know why he didn't tell me, but that isn't important right now. We need to keep moving and then hopefully we will be able to find shelter for the night. The sooner I can examine him the better."

The other six nodded and waited for Aragorn to lead them forward.

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**Sorry it is kind of short, but I just didn't have much time today.**

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I apologize for the long wait, but I was sick, then I got behind in school, so I had to do some major catch up. Fun right? And I have also run into another problem…so when I started this story, I had some idea of what my ending was going to be, but now I am not so sure. I am going back and forth about whether I should save the day when the fellowship reaches Lothlorien? Should Legolas die before they even reach the golden wood? If they do get to the Golden Wood, should I have the Lothlorien elves not be able to heal him? If I do kill Legolas off, should his death be understated and simple, or should it be a dramatic event with tears everywhere? I have absolutely no idea what I am going to do. If you all have any input on how you want this to end, I would love to hear it. I will be eternally grateful if one of y'all helps end my writers block.**

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The forest creating the Golden Wood moved by the fellowship in a blur of green and brown, as the late evening sun filtered into the area. The tall trunks and overgrown branches of the archaic trees almost immediately lost their shape, while the roots and grass followed soon after.

The silence that once enveloped the area was now practically non-existent due to the pounding of hurried feet that bounced around the open spaces. Worried whispers accented the heavy _thud, thud, thud, _of metal bottomed boots as well.

"Ouch!"

The cry stopped the frantic movements as the other figures turned around to check on the one who had emitted the noise. It had been the young Brandybuck, for in the rush he had lost track of where he was placing his feet, and one of the roots had caught his left foot, causing him to go sprawling forward.

"Merry are you alright?" A frightful voice asked.

The injured hobbit looked up—as he was sitting on the ground nursing his now throbbing ankle—to see his cousin, Frodo, Sam, and Boromir looking at him with concern and confusion. He smiled at them with a grim air, considering the fellowship's current situation, and rose up into an unsteady stance.

"Aye, it is fine, we should continue moving on. My ankle is not the worst of the injuries here."

Everyone's expressions fell a little after the hobbit made his statement, but they nodded none the less. They all watched carefully as Merry tried to take a step forward, but as soon as he pressed down on his injured ankle, he yelped quietly and had to lean heavily on Pippin for support. Soon the others started pestering him to sit back down to examine him, but the Brandybuck refused, continually expressing that he was completely fine, just a little sore. However, before he could continue on, a voice stopped him.

"No Merry. You have not yet mastered the ability of hiding your pain, the amount of discomfort you are in is clearly written across your face."

The hobbit turned to look into the face of Aragorn—the ranger from the North—who was watching him with a grim smile across his face. The man kneeled down somewhat laboriously, due to the bulk in his arms, and studied the ankle that Merry was purposely staying off of.

Then, to further examine the limb, Aragorn gently set the still unconscious elf down upon the grass, his back leaning against a nearby tree so he was in a somewhat sitting position. The movement elicited a barely audible groan from Legolas. The ranger looked to his friend with sad eyes and whispered lowly.

"Sidh mellon-nin. Nestad innas tol-a le estent." (Peace my friend. Aid will come to you shortly.)

Legolas fell back into his state of unresponsiveness almost immediately, which caused the man to frown and sigh in distaste.

"Aragorn, I am fine, we need to keep moving, for Legolas' sake."

The ranger smiled at Merry, but shook his head.

"Nay master hobbit. Please, allow yourself some rest, in fact we all could use some, even Legolas."

The man turned to watch they others, gesturing them forward.

"Come, I think that I saw a cave about five minutes back. We can rest there until morning, and hopefully I will be able to tend to Legolas' injury."

The other seven of the fellowship nodded, and the group turned to head back the way they came.

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The cave was dark, especially now that the sun had begun to dip behind the hills. It was also reasonably wet and the air was humid inside, but big enough for all of them. The cave would definitely not qualify for ideal conditions to rest, and certainly not for a severely injured elf, but as Aragorn checked around the corners and walls, he came to the conclusion that it was surprisingly safe. With that in mind, the man led his companions inside to set up a small camp.

Boromir and Sam started a building a makeshift fire pit, while Gimli gathered the wood from fallen branches outside, for he had strict instructions not to cut a single piece of wood from surrounding trees. Meanwhile, Aragorn took a look at Merry's ankle, coming to the conclusion that it was badly sprained, and would be fine in a day or two. Once that was done, Aragorn recruited the Frodo and Pippin to aid him in tending to the prince.

At the moment, Legolas was placed halfway on Aragorn's lap, his back leaning against the ranger's chest, his head lolling onto the man's right shoulder. His jerkin, tunic, and weapons had been discarded, so the pale expanse of skin that created Legolas' chest was available to the healer's eyes, and what he saw was anything but calming.

The source of the mass amounts of blood that covered the elf was a gash running from Legolas' stomach and up over his ribcage. The skin hadn't been broken too deeply, but whatever had made the injury in the first place must have been laced with some form of poison, for the skin around the edge of the wound had been turned a mixture of dark red and black, while some of the normally silver tinged blood was also becoming thicker and sludge like. It caused the man to wrinkle his nose in worry as he probed the wound.

Occasionally he would ask the hobbits for something, but seeing as he had no idea which poison was actually used, he couldn't do much besides probe the wound, make guesses, and give the elf common pain killing herbs.

After about ten minutes the ranger felt a shiver travel through his friend's body, but instead of dissipating, it only intensified. As time went by, Aragorn became concerned when the shiver seemed to take permanent residence within elf, becoming more of a tremble. Legolas' temperature had also skyrocketed over the past thirty minutes, or so, and the cold sweat that had originally plastered Legolas' skin once again started secreting, it drenched his brow and dripped down on Aragorn's shoulder. These signs were bringing the urgency of the situation into light.

"Aragorn…."

The man looked up from the elf's wound when he heard his name. However, he became confused when he saw that all other members of the fellowship had moved over to the fire Sam and the Gondorian had made….so who had called him?

"Aragorn…."

It came again, weaker this time, and that was when Aragorn realized it was his dear friend calling to him.

"Estel….Estel please….."

The man quickly brushed the sweat dampened hair from Legolas' face, and as his hand came in contact with the archer's skin, he could feel the unnatural heat radiating from the elf.

"Mellon-nin…." (my friend)

The man pressed a hand to the elf's cheek and murmured softly.

"Amin si mellon-nin. Gaul sad lle plada?" (I am here my friend. How are you feeling?)

There was a pregnant pause as the prince gathered up the strength to speak again.

"I am absolutely fine, you always make such a fuss Estel."

The response was quiet so the man had to lean in to hear it, and when he did, all he could do was chuckle and shake his head. He smiled down at the slightly strung out looking elf, who had shrunk in on himself to the point where he was curled into the man, his head still resting against the juncture of Aragorn's neck and shoulder. Legolas' body was still shaking dramatically as the vicious and unknown poison coursed through his veins. The elevated fever was also a cause for concern, but Aragorn's main focus was on ridding the archer's body of whatever toxin was plaguing him.

"I think that I have reason to be concerned right now."

A light and strained smile covered the prince's flushed lips.

"I am the one who is supposed to look after you…not the other way around."

Two bleary blue eyes looked up at the man, who found some sort of relief when the hint of humor showed itself.

"It doesn't have to be, I can be the mother once and awhile."

"Funny…prissy ranger."

"Stuck up princeling…."

Aragorn paused and his expression sobered.

"Why didn't you tell me Legolas?"

"The grief of Gandalf was already so strong, I didn't want to burden any of you any further."

The ranger sighed and wrapped his arms around the friend he coveted so dearly.

"So you thought that it wouldn't grieve me to lose you? Your welfare is just as important as everyone else's. Now how did you get that wound?"

"The arrow…in the mines."

Aragorn's eyes shot open. He should have been able to figure it out! He thought back to the mines and his heart plummeted…Legolas had tackled him to the ground, but he hadn't been paying attention as to why the elf had pushed him down.

"Oh Legolas, I wasn't paying attention. I am so sorry."

"No…don't be."

The man just pulled the elf closer when he could hear that Legolas' voice was failing him.

"You should rest mellon-nin. You will need your strength as possible to combat this poison." (my friend)

The prince nodded weakly, almost immediately drifting off into the elven realm of reverie. As the prince's mind wandered off, Aragorn stroked his hair from root to tip in a comforting motion.

"Be strong Legolas, you have to be strong."

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**Please review y'all!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Alright, I really appreciate the help you guys have given me, and I think that I have decided on a final ending, but I can't tell you what it is a t the moment for everyone hates spoilers….**

**Oh and just in case you forgot, the italics are symbolizing something in the past.**

**Please enjoy!**

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A pair of intelligent eyes scanned the horizon placed in front of him. They were a piercing gray with flecks of silver that reflected the bright early morning sun. Formed in the center were coal black pupils that expanded and decreased randomly as different light bounced off of them. They normally held so much strength with a hidden turmoil inside, which could only be seen in short glimpses, and only by the people who were really looking. However, now they just held fear, pain, and grief. The wall that normally resided within them had been completely demolished so all could see every thought that passed through them, all of which were moving in such a rapid succession, that it created a seemingly never ending blur. The clear grey had become positively wild with emotion, none of which was unjustified, for this morning, their owner—Aragorn, son of Arathorn—had woken up to find a very disturbing site.

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_The alcove of the cave, which the fellowship of the ring had been staying in, was finally lightening up as the sun rose. The daunting shadows, which seemed to become much too lifelike at times, were being chased away as dawn's fingers stretched out and grabbed at them. It definitely aided in making the cave seem much less dank, only the humid, yet stale air stayed as reminder. _

_The pale glow which had filled the area would have been an ideal way for the fellowship to awaken, and at first that was there only thought, that was until the ranger emitted a frantic cry. It wasn't any coherent phrase, or even a proper language, merely a wail, or howl. It grated on the ear drums of all around, and caused them to jump involuntarily. _

_Six heads whipped around to find the ranger leaning over his elven friend, muttering incoherently. They hurried over and several gasps sounded._

_Legolas' skin had become so white, he looked nearly transparent, blood was seeping from the left corner of his mouth, his normally rosy lips had been tinged blue, his chest was barely rising and falling, and his limbs were twitching in a nature that seemed involuntary. Coughs were also racking his frame, causing blood to splatter over Legolas' lips, chin, and chest. _

"_It's trinòur. How did I not see it before? Please forgive me Legolas." _

_The others turned to look at the ranger as his muttering finally became coherent. He was now rushing around probing at the wound, rubbing various pasty herbs along the discolored ridge. _

"_What is trinòur?" Asked a very frightened Pippin._

_The man whipped around as if he just realized that the fellowship was standing there, and with his immersion in treating the elf, they wouldn't be surprised if that was true. When he spoke, his voice sounded as rushed as his movements._

"_Trinòur is a poison that attacks the lungs, hence the blood. It is a quick working poison, and even with small amounts of time to incubate it will eventually destroy the host's lungs to the point where the amount of blood pooling in them causes the host to drown in it. It also caused extreme pain."_

_Aragorn's voice shook slightly at the end as he glanced back at the four hobbits, man, and dwarf. His eyes were pained and heavy with grief, their light silver tainted. Then, without saying anything more he turned back to hold down the elf's now rapidly shaking shoulders. _

"_Why is he shaking like that?"_

"_It is from oxygen deprivation Merry, the blood is clogging his airways. That is why I am trying to help him clear them."_

_The man then hefted the elf up against his chest to aid him in clearing his airways. The motion only increased the harsh coughing as more blood rushed from the elf's lips. The prince groaned and a small whimper escaped him._

"_Estel…thuio naegra….al-car-ha pen….dihena gwelu-nin." (Estel…breathing hurts…can barely do it anymore….please help me)_

"_I know mellon-nin, just try and breathe as normally as possible. I am going to try and clear your breathing passage alright? However, if this is going to work, I need you to calm down and remain that way, becoming frantic will only make things worse." (my friend)_

_The prince gave a fairly weak nod and expelled more of the silvery-red liquid from his lungs. It was now pouring down his face and neck, pooling onto his tunic._

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Aragorn looked down into the ashen face, bleary blue eyes, and blood caked lips of his friend. Legolas stared back, but it was only half-heartedly, for his strength was barely existent anymore.

The elf was dying, his friend was dying in front of him, and the only thing that could help him was several hours—at least—away. Lothlorien would possess the healers and herbs that could help Legolas in his survival, all of which Aragorn didn't have.

As he watched the prince wince again as another spasm of pain traveled through his body, Aragorn couldn't help but cringe. Then suddenly, he took off again, the fellowship following closely behind him. After this morning, the group had set off with renewed vigor, desperate to help their friend. They knew that time was ticking and with each second that passed, more and more poison was traveling through Legolas' veins, killing him slowly.

"Estel…daro…" (Estel…stop…)

The man frowned at the voice that emanated from Legolas' mouth. It was so frail compared to its normal tone.

"Amin hiretha Legolas, I didn't mean to jostle you too much." (I am sorry Legolas)

"That…is not…what I mean…and you know it…"

This caused the ranger to slow in worry.

"Legolas stop this, I am going to get you to Lothlorien, and they will heal you."

A shaky hand rose to rest on Aragorn's cheek.

"You know….as well as I do….that is not going to be likely..."

"You just need to have a little faith mellon-nin, stay strong and push forward like you always do."

"Estel…please…just stop this…before it causes us anymore pain."

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**Well, things aren't looking good are they…**

**Please review everyone!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay my dear readers, so I heard a lot of mixed reviews about how this should end, and I myself still haven't figured it out, or at least I thought I did until about two days ago, when I changed my mind AGAIN! So in resolution, I decided to do both. This means that the chapter I am posting right now is one ending, and then hopefully tomorrow, or sometime in the near future, I am going to post the other ending option. This way everybody is happy and you all can pick and choose which ending you want to read through!**

**I hope you enjoy ending one!**

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The ranger finally slowed to a complete stop as the words of the elf struck him like a punch to the gut. He moved his gaze down to what he realized were fading blue eyes, and sucked in a sharp breath when he saw what was lingering behind the orbs. It wasn't fear, pain, or anger towards the growing possibility of death, but acceptance, the elf had already come to an understanding with his fate.

Then, if it was even possible, the man felt his heart freeze even more than it already had. For this idea of acceptance meant that his beloved friend had already given up on living, forsaken the joy he got from wandering about the vast expanse that was middle earth, and thrown away the idea of seeing the people he cared for and thought of as friends. Legolas had come to terms with the fact that he would never smile, laugh, sing, or simply live again, but instead, fall into the numbing and eternal sleep that described death.

"There….is no way….out of this….that ends….happily. Please…Estel…mellon-nin…" (my friend)

The failing voice, which was once as clear as silver, brought Aragorn back into the harshness that had become his new reality.

"You do not know this Legolas. There may still be hope in this lopsided world we live in. You just have to fight to ensure that it becomes yours."

"My eyes darken as I grow closer….to the halls in which I am now fated to roam for eternity. I need not…..give myself false hope that my body….shall not fail, no matter how much….I might wish that it could be. All that remains for me to do now….is enjoy the time I have left…in the beautifully imperfect world that we call ours….and hopefully I will be able to spend it with you. This is all….I ask of you Estel….allow me to spend these moments….sitting under the trees of the Golden Wood."

Tears began to drip unashamedly from the deep silver eyes of the ranger, the elf's words striking true. Finding that his grief was stopping up his ability to vocalize, Aragorn mutely nodded, all the while biting his bottom lip to stifle his sobs. A somewhat satisfied sigh left the elf's blue-ish bloodstained lips as they curved into as much of a smile as he could manage.

Aragorn then checked behind him and saw that the rest of the fellowship stood behind them at a distance of maybe a dozen feet or so. He gave them one more glance before he turned away and disappeared into the trees. He could vaguely hear them calling when they lost sight of him, but the man just continued moving forward.

"Hannon lle muin-nin mellon." (Thank you my dearest friend.) The elf all but whispered.

"Of course Legolas."

Aragorn felt the elf relax in his arms, Legolas' head coming to rest limply against the man's shoulder. It brought unimaginable pain to the ranger to feel the elf, who he thought was invincible, who he had looked up to for years—and secretly still did—become frail and weak.

After several seconds Legolas called out to the ranger carrying him.

"Stop….the tree over there….it calls to me."

Legolas turned his head slightly towards the right, his arm limply pointing in the same direction towards a towering oak with heavily endowed branches. The ranger nodded with a numb quality and headed to Legolas' indicated direction. Once they arrived in front of the tree, Aragorn lowered himself down to the ground, staying mindful of the elf within his arms, and leaned his back against the trunk. He sighed and slowly moved Legolas until he was sitting in his lap, the prince's back against his chest.

All was silent as Legolas closed his eyes and leaned more and more into the man's form. Meanwhile, Aragorn sat, his arms wrapped around Legolas in a protective manner. The out of the blue, the prince spoke.

"I can feel the pull….Mandos' call grows stronger….every second that passes."

Aragorn honestly didn't know what to say, but he knew that something had to be said, Legolas needed his comfort and his support.

"Oio naa elealla alasse, amin innas na-dem a cen-ha gwanna." (Ever is thy sight a joy, I shall be saddened to see it go.)

A small wheezing cough sounded and the man felt a cold hand wrap around his own. Aragorn's mind froze when the cough sounded again, this time a little louder….Legolas was trying to clear his airways…the elf was choking on his own blood.

"Estel…."

"I know Legolas….I know…."

The man then turned the elf around so he was splayed across his lap, Aragorn arms around him the way one would hold an infant. He could see the red liquid that brought life, seeping over the cracked flesh of the archer's lips.

"Just try and breathe Legolas. I know that it is going to hurt, but it will only cause you more pain if you try and ignore it."

The elf nodded and another hacking cough racked his frame. More blood flew from his mouth and a steady stream began to pour down his chin. Legolas' body started to shake and his cold hands began failing for some sort of purchase.

Greif welling up inside him, Aragorn felt more warm salt water drip down his stubbly cheeks. He reached out and grabbed the elf's hands within his own, trying to stifle their trembling.

"Shhhh mellon-nin, i naeg innas meth tafnen." (Shhhhh my friend, the pain will end soon)

Legolas looked up into the eyes of his friend as more and more blood poured from his mouth. The blue orbs remained in eye contact with silver, the shaking slowly taking the form of convulsion as oxygen was continually cut off from the prince's body.

The convulsions lasted for five more minutes, which felt like the longest five minutes Aragorn had ever lived through, before suddenly Legolas gave Estel's hand a vicious squeeze and his body went limp, flopping down against the man's lap. Tense silence stretched across the area as Aragorn watched with wide and salt rimmed eyes, desperate for the elf to show some sign of life, but it never came.

The hold that the prince held over Estel's hands had slackened to the point of non-existence, his chest no longer rose and fell, the blood had stopped seeping past cold lips, and the blue eyes that held a fierce determination to stay strong, mere seconds ago, were now staring lifelessly up into the tear streaked face of Aragorn.

It was then that the silence was broken by a grating sob from the ranger. He slowly reached out and brought the elf's body closer to his, desperate to bring some warmth into the cold skin below him.

"I am so sorry Legolas, please forgive me, I pray that you are able to find peace with Lord Mandos. That is what you deserve, at the very least. You shall be dearly missed Legolas, by all around you. I hope that you know how much you were and always will be loved."

That was how the fellowship found the ranger and the elf ten minutes later, Aragorn still pouring his grief over the elf, whose soul had fled to the never ending halls of Mandos.

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**I know, I know, pretty darn depressing, but I wanted to do both options for y'all.**

**Please review!**


	7. Alternate Ending: Part 1

**So I know that some of you were upset with the fact that I killed off our favorite elven archer, so here is the alternate ending. I just want to make it clear that I am not bring him back from the dead in this chapter, it is supposed to pick up after chapter five. Essentially, pretend that chapter six never happened, so Legolas never died. I just wanted to clarify because I received so messages that from people saying they were a little confused on what I meant by 'both ending options'. **

**Please enjoy my dear readers!**

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"You are not going to pass Legolas. I simply will not allow it."

The elf released a whispered snort at the ranger's confident statement.

"Is…that…so?"

"Indeed. You are my friend, we are almost at Lothlorien, and therefore I forbid you to die on me. Do you understand?"

The man's voice shook as he pushed forward the strong words, attempting to hide the tears and pain that were growing within the silver greys of his eyes. It was extremely difficult to watch his friend of so many years give in to the cold grasp of death.

"You never…cease to…amaze me….Estel."

Aragorn smirked a little at this and looked down at the elf in his arms.

"That is my job mellon-nin, without me to keep up morale where would you be?" (my friend)

The archer laughed a little, but almost immediately it transformed into a hacking cough that produced more bright red blood, which splatted across Legolas' blue tinged lips. The once remotely light mood the ranger possessed vanished in the blink of an eye as he watched with horror, more and more blood stream down the snowy white chin of the elf.

He freed one of his arms to gently wipe at the thin line of red. Unfortunately, he only succeeded in smudging it, and ended up making it appear even more gruesome due to the fact that the sticky substance now covered even more of the impossibly pale flesh.

"I am sorry Legolas, I've only made it worse…" the man murmured as he continued to rub away the staining color.

The elf only swallowed thickly, obviously hindered by the large amounts of blood climbing up his throat, before his scratchy voice sounded again.

"No….you haven't…made anything…worse…you have….only aided me….thus far….and kept…me from….giving up."

The ranger smiled, finally giving up on removing the blood and replaced his hand underneath the elf's back to further steady him.

"Come now, we are wasting valuable time, time which your body is in great need of. We continue on t Lothlorien immediately in order to increase your healing time. As I said before, I will not have you die on me, not now, not ever."

With that the man pushed forward, weaving through the trees and shrubbery. Aragorn had only been to Lothlorien once or twice in his lifetime, so the pathway into the heart of the Golden Wood was a little bit hazy, but the will to save his friend drove him forward. There also seemed to be some sort of force directing him left, right, left again, and then finally straight ahead.

Occasionally the man would check over his shoulder to make certain that the rest of the fellowship was behind him, and fortunately they always were so he need not stop and wait.

"We are…getting closer…I can feel that….my kin…are near."

The whispered statement of the elf brought the man some sort of relief to know that he was indeed headed in the proper direction, so he slowed his frantic run to a reasonably paced walk. He heard the heavy footsteps of the fellowship slow behind him and the dwarf begin to ramble on about an elven sorceress, before and elvish arrow was centimeters away from his nose.

"A dwarf breaths so loud, we could have shot him in the dark."

Aragorn couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief and smile genuinely when he recognized the deep baritone voice.

"Haldir…."

**Please review y'all! Sorry it was so short.**


	8. Alternate Ending: Part 2

**Sorry it has been so long in-between updates guys, I have been pretty busy lately and typing as fallen to a lower spot on my priority list. Oh, and before you all point it out, I know that I didn't use the direct quotes from the movie during the conversation with Galadriel, but I purposely did that in order to better explain the story. I originally used some of the quotes, and it felt really awkward, so I just threw that idea out the window and proceed to use my own dialogue. **

**Please enjoy!**

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The single word was all it took to bring forward the ranger's needs. He reached out and placed a firm, yet very nervous hand upon the marchwarden's shoulder. It was a plea for help, and how on earth could the elf deny it?

Haldir looked down upon the prince and felt his heart climb its way into his throat. Breathing became difficult as he reflected on the time he had spent with the woodland elf. After all, Legolas was a dear friend, in fact Haldir had watched him grow up. Thranduil often brought the prince to visit Lothlorien when the prince was younger. So now as he looked upon the sickly elf, his decision was clear…he wasn't going to be the one who stood in-between the woodland prince surviving and thriving, or dying in pain, never to laugh again.

After a pause of maybe five seconds, Haldir leapt into action and plucked the injured elf from Aragorn's arms.

"Mani marte Aragorn? Sut ume Legolas teli an sen penia?" (What happened Aragorn? How did Legolas come to this state?)

The man sighed and placed a hand on Legolas' forehead, brushing over his sweat dampened hair and brow, his closed eyes—during the past few minutes, Legolas had promptly fallen unconscious again—and his now clammy skin.

"He has been poisoned Haldir, an orcish arrow, it was dipped in trinòur."

At this the elf's eyes widened significantly, and all that the man could do was nod grimly, for the last thing that Aragorn wanted, was for his raging emotions to betray him.

"Please Haldir, he doesn't have much time left, it has already been three days…."

The man's voice held such a desperation, it made Haldir's heart ache. He had heard of the strong friendship between the elf and the ranger, but this was the first time he was able to see it for himself. The elf then nodded vigorously and began to turn away from the group.

"I shall go ahead and take him to our healers. My kin shall lead you to the heart of the Golden Wood to speak with my Lord and Lady."

Aragorn looked a little upset that Legolas was being taken away from him, and unfortunately he was able to hide it from the inquisitive eyes of Haldir. Seeing the ranger's unease, the marchwarden sighed and spoke calmly to him.

"Peace Aragorn, I only wish to help Legolas. I will be able to get to help sooner by myself than traveling in a group. You need not worry, I only wish to bring him to aid."

This seemed to somewhat soothe the man for he gave a very curt nod of his head, and that was enough for the elf. He took off in the direction of Lothlorien.

As he moved, Haldir could hear the nervous whispers from the trees around them. It always amazed him that Legolas had such a deep connection with the world around him. Although all elves were in touch with nature, the woodland prince could speak to and calm the trees, animals, and plants around him wherever he went.

The marchwarden turned his gaze up into the greenery high above the trees and tried to decipher what the whispered words were. However, no matter how hard he tried, Haldir could only hear gibberish. He sighed in frustration, and then much to his surprise, a voice he could understand sounded.

"They are….worried about….me…they….told….me to….be strong."

The warrior looked down in shock to find that Legolas' eyes still closed, but his lips moving slowly.

"However, it is….becoming more….and more….difficult….to do…so."

"Come now, what happened to the little elfling that challenged me to an archery competition at the age of five hundred? For I clearly remember that he wasn't one to give up."

Haldir attempted a light banter in order to keep up morale, and hopefully prevent the younger elf from falling into another bout of unconsciousness, for in his current condition, Legolas might not be able to reawaken once more. Although, Legolas still didn't have the strength to open his eyes.

"He is…still here…somewhere….and…if I do….recall…correctly…said elfling…beat you…quite terribly."

Haldir couldn't help but chuckle at the smug expression plastered on Legolas' faded facial features.

"Unfortunately, I believe you to be right. Rumil and Orophin would let me live that down for years. They still do tease me about the fact that I was out-shot by a child one third of my age."

A grating chuckle broke through Legolas' lips. However, the blood that it also brought forth made Haldir cringe. It was followed by a groan as pain flushed through the prince's system. He desperately tried to clear the blood from his throat, but he was only part way successful. Seeing this, the marchwarden elevated the prince's upper body as much as possible, while still retaining his constant speed.

"Calm yourself tithen pen, the healers will be able to help you, save you." (little one)

The archer nodded stiffly and a look of mild indigence passed over his face.

"I am….not….little."

Haldir smiled and finally slowed.

"We have arrived Legolas. You just have to hang on for a few more minutes. Please can you do this for me?"

The prince gave a small grunt of approval. Haldir sighed at the lack of strength the elf held, but he had to push that away as he looked upon the sparkling structures that wound around the nearby trees. Mixed together, they created the beautiful realm of Lothlorien.

After another minute of admiration, Haldir took off and raced through the outdoor hallways and pushed himself up the stairs that lead to the healing ward. Along the way he received many looks of confusion, horror, and concern. Most of the elves with the Golden Wood knew of the young prince and thought of him as a friend.

Soon the warrior reached the doorway which the healing ward. He burst into the room, scaring every elf within and immediately started barking out orders. He felt a little guilty of sounding so harsh, but in the urgency of the situation, he couldn't help but raise his voice to an unnecessary level.

"I need as many healers as possible! Prince Legolas has been poisoned by trinòur and it has been incubating for close to three days now."

He gained several more odd stares from the surrounding elves, but it was short lived for soon the sickly prince was whisked away from him, and brought into the closest room. Haldir watched as they lay Legolas down on the bed and started unclasping his tunic to examine the contaminated wound in more detail. The marchwarden made as if to follow them in, but once he reached the doorway, the head healer pushed him back and shook his head.

"Nay Haldir, I am sorry but having other in the room will most likely only hinder our efforts."

The marchwarden started to protest, insisting that Legolas was in a lot of pain and it would be better if he had a friend in the room. However, the healer remained firm, and eventually Haldir gave in…with one condition.

"I will leave as of now, but his traveling companions will want to see him after they have finished speaking with the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Now I am going to return with them, and I would very much like to be able to bring them inside and see him. I will keep them out of the way but they will still want to be there. Do we have a deal?"

The elf nodded before biding Haldir farewell and disappearing into the room with the other healers. He made sure to close the door behind him, effectively cutting off Haldir from what was going on inside. This somewhat irritated the elf, but he understood the point of it all and then promptly headed off to find Aragorn and the fellowship, Legolas' condition weighing on his mind the entire time.

Meanwhile, the fellowship had finally reached Galadriel and Celeborn, and were currently discussing the current situation. As of now, Galadriel was inquiring about the whereabouts of Gandalf and Legolas. Feeling that it was his responsibility to speak for the fellowship, Aragorn bowed his head and explained.

"Gandalf has fallen into shadow after we were faced with a Balrog of Morgoth, within the decrepit mines of Moria. We made a mistake going into the mines in the first place, and we have now paid the price, for now another life hangs in the balance. Legolas was poisoned by and orcish arrow dipped in trinòur while we were fleeing the mines. He is currently with your healers, but I fear that he will d….."

The man trailed off and took a brief moment to collect himself, for during his explanation, unshed tears began to gather around the rims of his eyes, and his voice started to shake in an almost uncontrollable manner. Aragorn took a centering breath before once again making eye contact with the Lady of light, and continuing forward.

"I fear that he will soon die, for the poison has already rendered him concerning weakened. In fact I have already almost lost him once or twice throughout the past few days. I stand before you now with a great grief consuming my heart. I have already lost one friend, and I know not if shall be able to continue on if I were to lose another."

The area fell into an uneasy silence as Aragorn's words were processed. It only took Galadriel a few seconds to respond however.

She walked forward with an outstanding amount of grace, which only the elves possessed, and stopped once she was directly in front of the man. At her arrival, he bowed his head once more, but she promptly raised his chin with a pale and delicate hand. She sent him a smile laced with pity and sadness before speaking.

"Dear ranger, you must have hope that Legolas' strength will prevail. You and I have both known him for too long to believe that he would do anything but fight tooth and claw for his life to continue. I also have no intent of allowing Thranduil's son to die in my realm."

The man swallowed, his apprehension clouding his eyes.

"What you speak is true my lady, but still I cannot help the worry that festers within me. All that I can think of is his eyes watching me as he dies, his cold skin, and his motionless heart. His death constantly plagues my mind, each time the horror increases to a new level of grief and pain. I have seen Legolas die so many times over, it is the only reality I can see now."

The ranger now had tears streaming over his cheeks, no longer able to hold them back. His breathing was also becoming erratic as sobs tore through his throat.

"I could not bear to see his laughter cease, nor his eyes lose the mirth that permanently resides there. To watch his life end in such a gruesome way, with pain and suffering being his final thoughts, it would tear my heart to pieces, never to be out together again."

Galadriel sighed at the utter sadness within the man's words and voice. She placed a hand upon his shaking shoulder as she spoke to him in the tongue of her people.

"An gur ned a mellon tol-ben al-er-iest am cen." (The death of a friend is something none wish to see.)

She was about to continue when Haldir came jogging into the space. His face was a little bit flushed from the running he had done in order to reach the fellowship so quickly, and his breathing was just barely labored. When she saw the marchwarden, Galadriel paused her words and looked questioning towards the elf.

"Haldir, do you bring us news of Legolas?"

"Aye my lady. I brought the prince to our healers and they have begun treatment of his wounds. I returned to bring Aragorn and the others to see him. However, if you are still in need of them I shall wait."

The she-elf shook her head gently.

"Nay Haldir, please show them to his bedside. The presence of loved ones shall surely aid Legolas in his recovery."

The marchwarden nodded and gestured for the fellowship to follow him. The group moved in his general direction before giving Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel deep bows of respect. When the gesture was accepted, the group took off in the direction Haldir pointed them.

They curved through outdoor halls and tumbled down flight after flight of stairs until they reached an open space with a doorway along one end. Said door was slightly open and shouts of frantic elvish trickled out into the air around the fellowship.

"Amin sab-al plada-a thang." (I cannot feel a pulse.)

"Nuuta! Amin innas-al gar-rhum gurthun bo-nin!" (Dammit! I will not have him die on me!)

As the words were heard by both the elf and ranger, the two paled and sprinted inside, the fellowship on their heels. As the group burst into the room, Aragorn couldn't but gasp and choke on more tears.

Legolas was placed on the bed, pale as the sheets he was lying on, with blood splattered across his chin and neck. His eyes were half-lidded, while his lips were slightly parted. His frail body was completely still, with the exception of the head healer pounding on his chest. Legolas' heart had stopped, his soul was fleeing his body, and at the moment the healers were desperately trying to get him back. Every time the elf pressed down upon Legolas' chest, a hollow thumping sound filled the room.

The ranger released a cry of grief when a second healer announced she still couldn't find a pulse.

_Thump, thump, thump…_

Nothing, except the ranger plummeting to his knees.

_Thump, thump, thump…._

Still no heartbeat, and the healer was getting tired.

_Thump, thump, thump….._

Again nothing, accompanied by the freezing words of 'one last try, but then we have to stop.'

_Thump, thump, thump, thump….._

A tense silence as the healer searched with wide eyes for a pulse, for anything symbolizing that the elf was still alive. Everyone was watching with bated breath as the she-elf raised her eyes.

"We got him."

All were shocked and stricken with an overwhelming happiness. Legolas was alive, they had brought him back. None were happier than the ranger, practically collapsed upon the floor. Tears of joy were now covering his cheeks, no longer those of sadness.

He watched as the healers worked frantically on his friend in order to keep him breathing, and as he kneeled there, hope finally fell on him, crashing down upon his shoulders and forcing a small smile to form upon his lips, along with a simple sentence.

"Legolas, you never cease to amaze."

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**Alrighty folks, one more chapter to wrap this up!**

**Please, please, please review!**


	9. Alternate Ending: Part 3

**Last chapter guys. I hope that you all have enjoyed this story so far. And now I would like to take the time to thank everyone who has reviewed and read my story, it really means a lot to me to read through your kind words that you send for me. Oh and on the topic of reviews, I wanted to answer the question that came up from one of y'all.**

**Gracie: So I do realize that the CPR thing is a little far-fetched, but it made the most sense in that certain situation. So yes, I am not entirely proud of the fact that I strayed a little from the Tolkien universe. However, as for the pulse thing, I am pretty sure that they would have had the ability to find a pulse, because it is a reasonably simple medical skill. Also, the elves have a more advanced medical sense than most other races of on Middle Earth. So I just wanted to clear all that up, but I still thank you for posting your review!**

**Please enjoy guys!**

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_A Olórin i yáressë  
Mentaner i Númeherui  
Tírien i Rómenóri,  
Maiaron i oiosaila  
Manan elyë etevannë  
Nórië i malanelyë?_

The haunting tune of flowing elvish floated through the open room in which an elf and a man sat. Both were absolutely silent, albeit for very different reasons. The elf was draped in silence due to the fact that he was still in the deep sleep of healing that elves fell into after suffering serious injury. The being looked close to dead—as he lay upon his appointed bed—with his sunken face, pale skin, and closed eyes. Only the shallow rise and fall of his chest gave away the fact that he was alive. The fatal poison that had once coursed relentlessly through his veins was finally dissipating thanks to the skill—and quite frankly an overwhelming amount of luck—that the Lorien healers possessed.

Meanwhile, the ranger, who sat faithfully beside the elf, held in his words, for he feared that doing anything to change the moment might just tip the slightly precarious position that the elf was in. The human hadn't left the room since he first arrived nearly seven hours earlier. After the healers had stabilized his friend, he had pulled up a chair and refused to move until the archer woke. The ranger had also taken up the habit of occasionally squeezing or rubbing his thumb along the top of the elf's hand, just to ensure that his friend knew that he was there, and wasn't going to leave him behind.

Worry still filled the heart of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and it would continue to until Legolas was back on his feet, laughing along with the others. The guilt that he felt wasn't exactly helping him feel any better either. After all, the man was still under the belief that the injury Legolas sustained, which eventually put him into his current situation, was entirely his fault. He had been the one who had fallen behind in Moria, he was the one who refused to move, even when the arrows began raining down upon them, and it was he who Legolas had taken the arrow for.

A battle scarred hand passed over tired eyes as Aragorn groaned lowly.

"You should rest young one. You have exhausted yourself emotionally."

The man turned at the musical voice, only to find Lady Galadriel standing behind him, a calming smile upon her face.

"I appreciate your concern my lady, but with all due respect, I would rather stay here until he wakes up."

The lady nodded and gestured to another chair beside the man's.

"May I sit with you?"

"Of course, you need not ask."

The elf smiled and gracefully placed herself in the unoccupied chair. Her posture remained flawless as she leaned forward to rest a delicate hand upon the abnormally cold forehead of Legolas. Her smile faltered slightly when she felt his temperature, but it was a barely noticeable shift in emotion. Galadriel began slowly stroking the pale flesh as a reminiscent expression passed over her face.

"I share your pain Aragorn, I have known our dear prince since he was a newborn child. He was quite frail growing up, always thinner and taller than the other elves around him. For the first few month of his life the other members of the royal family believed that he would not survive. However, he fought for his life and dedicated every waking moment to becoming just as strong of a warrior as the other elves in his kingdom. Eventually, as you and I know, he surpassed them. All his life Legolas has held the strength to fight through whatever adversity he had been faced with, and I see no reason why that wouldn't apply to his current situation."

By now the elf had taken her eyes off of Legolas, and had them plastered to the concerned face of Aragorn. The man turned to return her gaze and nodded in understanding before she continued.

"Your guilt however, is not relevant to the current standing."

Aragorn looked to her in confusion.

"My lady?"

"Aragorn, did you honestly think that I could not sense the guilt over Legolas' injury that you have deeply buried. This ordeal was not your doing, so why do you believe otherwise?"

The ranger sighed and gave Legolas' hand another gentle squeeze.

"I froze after Gandalf fell. I just stood there unable to move, even though I knew that the dangers of the orcs were closing in on us. Legolas stayed behind and tried to pull me away, but I wouldn't listen to him. I was so involved with processing what happened, that I didn't even register that he was talking to me. Then he suddenly tackled me to the ground. That was when I became aware of what was going on and dragged the two of us out of the mines. However, it was too late. I found out later that Legolas pushed me down because he saw that an arrow was headed towards me. When we fell, he covered my body with his own and ended up get struck by the poisoned arrow. If I had been more alert, then none of this would have happened, and Legolas wouldn't be lying on this bed, fighting for his life, but up with the rest of us, singing, laughing, crying, just living."

The she-elf gave a thoughtful nod before standing and moving towards the door. She paused just before she left and sent Aragorn a wistful look.

"Young ranger, you should not beat yourself over this. What has happened has happened, and there is nothing that can change that. However, you can make the best of things by forgiving yourself and staying strong. Legolas shall survive, and when he wakes, he will need you on top of your wits in order to aid him in regaining the strength he has lost. Rejuvenate yourself Aragorn, allow your wounds to heal."

With that she was gone, disappearing into thin air. Aragorn watched the doorway she had vanished through until he was sure that he was once again alone. He then turned back to his ailing friend and sighed heavily. The man settled himself deeper into his chair, preparing to wait as long as need be.

* * *

Two finally clear blue eyes scanned the area around them. It had taken them a moment to get used to the light, seeing as they had been closed for so long. The first thing they had done was check their surroundings, for the past few days were slightly blurry, and therefore the memories within them were as well. Once it was established that they were within Lothlorien, the two blues fell upon the form to their left. A small snort left Legolas as his sight fell upon the ranger.

Apparently the man had fallen asleep during his vigil. His head was resting at an awkward angle along the back ridge of the chair he was placed in, his limbs were thrown around in hap-hazardous angles, and barely audible snorts were being emitted from his parted lips. In short, the ranger looked absolutely ridiculous and completely strung out. It was also obvious from his current standing that the man hadn't slept or even rested in a rather long time.

Now the elf was loathe to wake his friend, but he thought that it might be a better idea to move the man into a more comfortable position, so he gently called out to Aragorn.

"Ah, when I finally decide to grace you with my presence, you, Aragorn son of Arathorn, are asleep."

The man's brow crinkled in confusion at the comment, and Legolas had to struggle to contain his laughter.

"Honestly mellon-nin, is age really affecting you to the point where you can't stay awake for more than a few hours?" (my friend)

"Oh shush….you stuck up princeling."

The elf raised an eyebrow at the ranger's sleepy reply, going quiet for several moments. Eventually Aragorn's facial muscles relaxed. Then there was a moment of calm before the man nearly fell out of his chair.

"LEGOLAS!"

Said elf chuckled lightly as Aragorn flew forward and fell to knees by his bedside. The man grasped for the elf's hand in a frenzy and squeezed it tightly, just to ensure that the warmth and life the archer was giving off, wasn't a dream. When the grip became a little too tight Legolas winced.

"Ai Estel, I am going to need that."

The ranger's eyes widened and he began bumbling with apologies. However, the prince quickly brushed him off by drawing his other hand over—somewhat strenuously for his body was still recovering and frankly in a lot more pain then he was going to admit—to rest upon the clasped hands of his and Aragorn's. This caused the man to raise his eyes and look into those of the elf.

"Please stop apologizing mellon-nin." (my friend)

The elf spoke with a calm and level tone, which immediately helped in easing the ranger's nerves. He released a heavy sigh and sniffed, causing the prince to crinkle his brow in worry. When several seconds passed—during which the man dropped his gaze—and tears began to drip from the ranger's silver eyes, Legolas sighed and unclasped his hands from the pile. He then cupped one of the ranger's cheeks and gently wiped at Aragorn's tears with the pad of his thumb.

"Do not cry for what has already come and gone Estel. I have been healed by the elves of Lorien, I shall not slip away to Mandos anytime soon. So do not weep, please do not weep mellon-nin." (my friend)

Aragorn looked up and smiled shakily at his friend.

"I know Legolas, it is foolish to do so, but I honestly thought I was going to lose you."

"I never said that it was foolish Estel, it is anything but foolish, and I would never look down upon you from shedding tears. However, I only ask you not grieve yourself over what has happened to me."

"…but it was my fault…."

The spoken words were almost in-audible, but due to the sharp hearing the elves possess, Legolas was able to hear every word. The prince's face fell and he released a sigh as he closed his eyes.

"Oh Estel…none of this was your fault, please you must know this. What happened was the fault of the orc who fired that arrow towards us. I pushed you out of the way because you are mellon-nin, gwador-nin. I would never forgive myself if you were hurt." (my friend, my brother)

Aragorn still looked forlorn, but seeing Legolas breathing, very much alive, gave him the reassurance he needed to quiet his crying and enjoy the fact that his dear friend was still among the living.

"I know…I just…."

The man paused before flinging himself forward and wrapping strong arms around the elf's thin frame. He pulled Legolas as close as possible and buried his head in the crook of Legolas' shoulder. Aragorn soon felt the elf's arms wrap around his chest, return the embrace. When the man picked up where he left off, his voice was muffled, yet still understandable.

"I am so glad that you're alive….thank the gods that you're alive."

The two remained in the embrace for minutes, close to hours, neither one wanting to break the bond that they shared. However, even though eventually the embrace broke, the bond that solidified once more in that moment, was never to be shattered.

* * *

**That's all folks! Please review!**

**The song at the beginning is the lament for Gandalf that the fellowship hears during the beginning of their stay in Lothlorien.**


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